A Night To Remember
by myshipsaresunk
Summary: Prom is hard for normal teenagers. Try adding being a superhero, a mysterious friend as a date, an over-excited aunt, and a certain billionaire/playboy/philanthropist who sticks his nose in your business. Despite it all, Peter Parker is determined to have a night to remember. Pure Fluff.


**Disclaimer:** All rights belong to Disney, Marvel, and all the men and women that created _Avengers: Infinity War_. I take no credit, and I do not mean to break any copyright rules. This is simply a work of fiction made for enjoyment. No money is being made.

 **Rating:** K+

 **Author's Note:** For those in need of post-Infinity War therapy, this is for you. (No IW spoilers). Lots of Father!Tony. Also, I'm pretty sure this is my first non-angsty fanfiction. Enjoy!

 **A Night To Remember**

"Are you going to prom this year?" Michelle asks, slumped in her chair across the aisle from Peter. At the front of the classroom, the science teacher struggles to answer a series of ridiculous questions from a group of popular guys.

"Yeah, me and Ned were going to go," Peter answers. "You?"

MJ reaches over and sets a piece of paper on his desk. Peter opens it and sees an address written on it.

"What's this?"

"Friday night, six o'clock, my house," MJ says. "That's my address. Don't be late."

"Friday night is prom night," Peter points out. "I already told you I'm going."

Michelle stares at him expressionlessly, blowing a huge bubble and then popping it. When she finally speaks, her tone is dead. "You are the dumbest person to ever score over fifteen-hundred on the ACT."

"MJ -"

He's interrupted by the ringing of the bell. MJ is up in a flash, her backpack slinging over one shoulder, her coat laid across her other arm. She's in the hallway before Peter gives chase.

"Wait! I don't understand!" he calls after her.

"Ask Ned!" she replies, then continues walking off. Peter stares at her retreating figure. Every time he thinks he's beginning to understand her, she does something that completely puzzles him.

Peter returns to the classroom to pick up his schoolbag. As his luck would have it, the teacher corners him and starts a conversation about grasshopper biology. Peter tries to slowly back his way out of the classroom, but he's not the greatest at maneuvering out of awkward situations. By the time he manages to escape, passing time is over. He curses himself silently; normally he and Ned meet up during the time between classes, and now he'll have to wait until the end of the day to talk to his friend.

During his government class, all Peter can think about is the cryptic message from MJ. When the teacher calls on him to ask how many houses of congress there are, he answers with "nine" and gets a load of snarky remarks and snickering laughs in response. When they get a worksheet passed out, he spells his name "Perter". When Flash throws a paper airplane at him, he's so zoned out that he doesn't even notice it until it stabs him right in the eye.

Peter jumps up from the seat when the bell rings. He slings his backpack on and walks as fast as he can out to the bus lot, where Ned is waiting for him outside of their bus.

"Are you okay?" his friend asks when he bursts into sight.

"Yeah, but I need your help with something," Peter replies, stealing past him to grab a seat by the emergency door. It's become habit for him to put himself by possible exits.

"Is it -" Ned lowers his voice "-Avengers' business?"

Peter shakes his head. "No, it's more important than that."

Ned's eyes widen. "More important than Captain America?"

"It's about MJ."

Ned stares at him for a solid minute. "You're kidding," he finally says.

Peter digs in his pocket for the note. "She handed this to me and told me to meet her on Friday at six. I'm not sure what she meant by it, and she gave a look that told me I was stupid."

Ned stares at him again.

"It was that exact look!" Peter exclaims. "What am I missing?"

"Dude, she's asking you to prom!" Ned practically yells, shoving the paper into Peter's chest.

Peter can't breathe for a second. "She - what?"

"Well, not really asking. More like telling." Ned shakes his head and sighs. "You're super oblivious, man. You better ask her what color her dress is. Oh, and if she's going to have a date for me."

Peter stares at the paper for a moment. "You really think I should go with her?"

"Why not? She's pretty, you guys are friends, and otherwise you're not going to have a date. Not after ditching Liz at Homecoming last year."

Peter concedes that his friend has a good point. He mentally weighs the pros and cons, and then decides that going with MJ wouldn't be terrible. It's better than having no date.

"Okay." A sudden thoughts occurs to Peter. "I don't really know her, though. She never talks about her own life or her parents or anything. What if they hate me? What if she has a scary older brother? What if her father pulls me aside for 'the talk'?"

"Dude, not every girl you go out with is going to have a supervillain for a dad. Also, you're Spiderman. You can handle yourself." Ned puts his hand on Peter's shoulder. "Have some confidence in yourself."

Peter feels a weight lift off his chest. "Thanks, man."

They get off at the stop nearest to Peter's apartment. Aunt May meets them at the door.

"You gotta try these double chocolate vegan cookies I made!" she exclaims, shoving a small plate into their faces.

"Woah, May, give us a chance to take our bags off," Peter complains, heading through the living room to his bedroom. Ned grabs the cookies and follows, thanking May profusely.

Peter drops his bag by his bed and falls onto his bed. "What do I wear to prom? It's more formal than Homecoming, right?"

Ned stuffs two cookies into his mouth at the same time. "Ooohh," he groans. "Your aunt is the best cook ever."

Peter makes a face. "I swear, you're the only one who likes her cooking."

"Does that mean I can have all of these?"

"I'm not even going to answer that." Peter pulls out his laptop and starts searching online for prom advice. He's almost as nervous at the thought of going with the mysterious Michelle as he was when he asked Liz to Homecoming.

Ned wipes dark crumbs off his chin. "Look at that pale pink tux! You should go for that one!"

"I have to match her dress. That's how it works, right? But I don't know what color her dress is." Peter buries his face in his hands. "Ugh. This is too stressful. Give me an armed bank robbery any day."

Ned pulls out his own laptop. "Speaking of," he begins. "Not armed robbery, but there's a car chase in Brooklyn right now."

By the time Ned looks up, Peter is already pulling on his suit and jumping out the window.

* * *

Peter feels true freedom flying through the skies. His webbing attaches from one building to another and he soars from one to the other. Since becoming Spiderman, he's really achieved a good sense of the layout of New York. Of course, the AI in his suit is ready to pull up a map should he get lost.

"Two block east," Karen says. "Do you want any special features activated?"

"Not today," Peter replies, adjusting his direction. He can hear the police sirens now.

"Anything else I can help you with?"

"Actually," Peter says, swooping down and landing in a crouch on the hood of the white van, "I have some personal issues going on right now."

The driver of the van swerves right, then left, then right again. Peter, holding on by his special grips, isn't even fazed.

"What would those be?" Karen asks.

The driver suddenly slams on the brakes. Peter loses his concentration and goes flying off. He ducks into a roll and emerges unharmed but out of breath.

"Have you ever been asked to prom by a girl who you like? Not in a _like_ like way, but you're friendly with her. But you barely know anything about her."

The vehicle speeds up again, running down Peter. He jumps at the last minute and lands on the windshield this time.

"Considering I'm a computer AI embedded inside this suit by Tony Stark, no, I have never been asked to prom."

The driver whips out a gun and shoots through the windshield. Peter leans side to side to dodge the bullets.

"Fair point. I guess I'm just kind of nervous. I'm not used to girls being so forward with me. And what if she actually likes me?"

The man in the passenger seat also pulls out a gun. Peter aims his web shooters at him and shoots through the shattered windshield.

"Lots of girls love the Spiderman. Your youtube videos have over 100 million hits and half as many comments, most of them from female admirers."

Peter swings in through the side widow into the cab. He shoots webs at the driver's eyes, effectively blinding him.

"I don't want to be loved as the Spiderman. I want to be loved as Peter Parker, nerd orphan kid and all. And what if this is my chance?"

Peter realizes that blinding the driver was a mistake. He reaches over the man to open the door and shoves him out before sliding into the driver's seat.

"Aren't you a little young to be worrying about love?" Karen asks.

"You sound like Mr. Stark," Peter mutters.

"Well, he did design me. I'm sure a lot of his wisdom and intelligence has been transferred into my programming."

"Definitely him." Peter stares at the car in puzzlement. "Um, Karen? I need your help here. I've never driven stick shift before."

"Why don't you just park it?" Karen suggests.

Peter feels instantly dumb for not thinking of that. "You're right." He hits the brake and the wheels squeal against the pavement in protest.

"The police are right behind you."

Peter glances in the rearview mirror to see a few police cars converging on the scene. "Time to blast," he mutters before climbing out of the car.

"Incoming text from Michelle Jones," Karen informs him. "Would you like me to read it to you?"

"Hands up!" a policeman yells.

"A little busy right now," Peter mumbles.

"No unregistered enhanced individuals allowed!" another officer shouts.

"It says, 'In case you were wondering -'"

"Get me an escape route!" Peter interrupts.

"Manners _are_ appreciated."

Police cars begin to surround the scene and more officers spread out, guns pointing towards him.

"Hands where we can see them!"

"There's a building at your three o'clock. Get on the roof and you're clear."

Peter desperately hopes the policemen won't fire. They haven't yet, but tensions have been a little high lately.

He raises his arm to shoot his webbing when something hits his thigh and crackles. He registers a sharp pain before falling to the ground.

"Ah! What was that?" he cries.

"I believe you've been tasered," Karen replies.

Peter grits his teeth and starts crawling forward, raising his arm again. Another sharp pain racks his body. This time he can't help but cry out aloud.

He can see officers gathering around him in front of him.

"Look how short he is," one observes.

"Think he's just a kid? Or a short adult?" another one asks.

"Let's take off the mask and see."

Peter sees their hands reaching down and holds his arms up in defense. "Karen, enable lockdown mode," he orders, the pain causing his words to tremble.

"Lockdown mode engaged," she confirms. "Contacting Tony Stark."

"What? No! Don't do that! He doesn't need to know!" His voice cracks on the last note.

"What did he say?" a police officer asks.

"Did you hear his voice? I think he _is_ just a kid!"

Peter's vision blurs and darkens around the edges. He can feel hands tugging on his mask.

"It won't come off!"

Peter takes a deep breath. "Karen, can you disable those tasers?"

He feels a tickling sensation running along his suit and then a series of pops as the tasers explode.

"What the -" an officer starts.

Peter rolls over, jumps to his feet, and shoots his webs at the building. Then he swings away from the cops before they realize what's happening.

"Thanks, Karen. You didn't happen to make the call through to Mr. Stark, right?"

There's a long pause. "No," she finally says.

Peter lets out a breath. "Alright. Good. No need for that. Just a little trouble." Then he suddenly feels a burning in the back of his throat and barely manages to rip off his mask before heaving up the contents of his stomach over the roof. "Ah, that's gross."

When he recovers, he puts his mask back on and swings back to Queens.

* * *

"Dude! I saw on the news what happened! You alright?" Ned is onto him as he swings back into his bedroom.

"Yeah, I'm okay. By the way, getting tasered sucks."

"You got tasered?" Ned's eyes grow wide. "Cool!"

"I was tasered _twice_. Cops almost got me this time."

"Good thing they didn't. Prom is this weekend."

Peter suddenly remembers what Karen was telling him during the chase. He pulls out his phone.

"Michelle texted me."

"What does it say?" Ned leans over and looks on the screen.

"'My dress is red.'" Peter lets out a relieved breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Well, that's one thing I don't need to worry about asking her."

"You need a new phone, man. It's so cracked it looks like your webbing. You should ask your friend Stark for an upgrade."

Peter clutches his phone to his chest in mock hurt. "This was my first phone! I fought Captain America with this phone in my pocket! Took a selfie with the Avengers with this phone!" _And_ , he doesn't add, _this was Uncle Ben's phone._ "Besides, Mr. Stark and I aren't friends. We're..." He trails off, now sure how to describe their relationship.

Ned doesn't notice. "Uh-huh. You can't even get the new iOS updates on that thing. Haven't been able to for years. I'm actually surprised it still works."

Peter ignores him. "Where am I going to get a suit for prom?"

Aunt May bursts into the door at that moment. Peter quickly shoves the Spidey suit under his blanket. She doesn't notice.

"Prom? Did I hear prom?"

"May!" Peter protests. "You didn't knock! I thought we talked about this!"

Her face turns red. "Sorry. I just got so excited." She turns to Ned. "Here's some more cookies. Fresh out of the oven."

Ned grabs them. "You're the best," he says with a full mouth.

May turns back to Peter. "So you are going to go to prom?"

"Yeah, I'm going."

Ned swallows loudly. "He's going with Michelle Jones, from the Decathlon team."

May clasps her hands together and her eyes shine with excitement. "Really? You asked a girl? Peter, I'm so proud of you!"

Peter can feel his face turning red, and he inwardly curses Ned. "Actually, I didn't ask her. She kinda asked me."

He didn't think it was possible for Aunt May to be more excited. He was wrong. She leans over and hugs him tightly.

"My little heartbreaker," she cooes.

Peter's nose wrinkles up. He gently pushes her away. "Ugh, May, it's not like that. MJ is just a friend."

May turns to Ned. "Is she pretty?"

Ned nods. "Oh, yeah, she is."

Peter's aunt squeals. "This is great! Peter, we need to go tux shopping! And you need a plan. Where are you taking her out to eat? What are you going to do after the dance? Do you have a corsage picked out?"

Peter can feel his head spin. Prom is way too complicated. "I don't know, I don't know, what's a corsage?"

May sighs and looks pointedly at Ned. "Where did I go wrong in raising him?" she asks.

Ned shakes his head sympathetically. "It's not your fault. He's a hopeless case."

Peter smacks his arm lightly. "I have a few days to figure things out."

"Do you at least know the color of her dress?" May asks.

"Yeah, it's red."

May sighs in relief. "Good. I can work with that." Then she suddenly leans over and pinches his cheek affectionately. "Aw, I'm so proud of you, Peter."

He swats her hand away. "You know I hate when you do that!"

She grins. "Yes, I do."

As she exits the room, Peter feels a surge of warmth inside him. He may have lost his parents and his uncle, but he has a loving aunt and best friend who always support him. Life isn't bad, as long as you have that.

Life isn't bad at all for this friendly neighborhood Spiderman.

* * *

Peter stands in front of the mirror, back straight, shoulders squared. Aunt May stands just behind, smoothing out an already smooth sleeve. She has tears in her eyes.

"You look so handsome, Peter," she says, resting her chin on his shoulder. "I can't believe you're a junior already. Next thing I know, you're going to graduate and leave me."

He reaches an arm back and holds her hand. "I'm not going to leave you," he promises. "Family's got to stick together."

She smiles at him. "I love you, Pete."

"I love you too, Aunt May."

She reaches into her purse and pulls out a polaroid camera. "Take lots of pictures for me, okay?"

Peter takes it and slips it into his pocket. "I will. I promise."

She smiles at him in the mirror again. A knock at the door interrupts the moment.

"I'll go get it. It's probably the Amazon package I ordered. Don't go anywhere yet."

Peter takes the moment alone to appreciate how he looks. He's not the kind of person who particularly cares about his image. Sure, he was ecstatic when his skin and bones frame became ripped and lean after being bitten by the radioactive spider, but other than that he's not conscious about his looks. But he looks good with his hair modernly styled and his skin clear of pimples for once in his lifetime.

He also loves how professionally the suit looks on him. If he had sunglasses, he'd look like Mr. Stark.

"Peter, honey?" Aunt May calls from the front of the apartment. "Someone's here to see you."

Her voice sounds breathless. Peter's mind instantly goes to Michelle - did she perhaps come here for some reason? But that wouldn't make sense; she doesn't even know where he lives.

He makes his way to the door. When he sees who it is, half of him is shocked and half of him is resigned.

"Mr. Stark," he says, trying to keep his voice level. "What are you doing here?"

Aunt May beams at Peter and then turns back to Tony. "I heard about the engagement! You and that Pepper woman make a true power couple, let me tell you. She's absolutely gorgeous, too. I bet you'll have the best wedding of the century."

Stark answers without hesitating. "You want to come? I'm sure I can reserve two seats for you and Peter."

Aunt May holds her hands to her chest as if her heart has stopped beating for a moment. "Are you serious?"

"Of course. It's no big deal." Stark then turns to Peter. "The man of the night has finally arrived."

"I'll leave you two be," May says, flashing Peter a euphoric grin as she walks past him. When she's out of earshot, Tony begins speaking.

"You cleaned up decently. If you had asked, I could have had my tailors custom make you a suit, but that's alright. Are you driving that horrendous Buick to prom?"

Although Peter agrees that Aunt May's car is ugly, somehow he still feels personally offended. "What's wrong with the car?"

"It would be a sin if I let you drive that." Tony reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key fob, which he tosses to Peter. "You can borrow my ride for the night. Just don't go too fast, okay? And for the love of God, don't drive if you decide to drink anything. The car has self driving features if you need it. And please don't do anything gross in the backseat."

Peter is still stuck on the offer of the car. "You're letting me drive your car?" he stutters.

"Well, I was going to have Hogan drive you around, but then I decided your date might recognize him and spend the whole night asking him questions about me instead of paying you attention. You don't have to thank me now."

"Uh, thanks, I guess. How did you know tonight is prom?"

"Karen told me. You don't think I don't get transcripts of every conversation you have with her?"

"You're spying on me with the suit?"

"I prefer the phrase 'protective backup'. Spying makes me sound like a creep." Tony sniffs the air suspiciously. "Do I smell double chocolate cookies?"

"They're vegan."

Tony wrinkles his nose. "That explains the weird after scent. You don't think she's going to offer me any, do you?"

"Not if you leave within the next five minutes."

"Warning noted." Tony examines Peter and then suddenly leans forward and wraps his arms around him.

Peter opens his mouth in surprise but Tony interrupts.

"I'm not hugging you. Just slipping a gift card to Trattoria L'incontro in your pocket." Tony releases him and straightens up.

"Trattori - are you serious? That's one of the most expensive restaurants in Queens!"

"Really? I thought it was cheap. Anyway, I just want you to have an option for your date. You look good, kid. Almost as good as I did when I was your age."

"Thank you?"

Tony waves it off. "Just kill 'em at the dance, okay?"

Peter nods. Tony starts for the door.

"Um, Mr. Stark?"

The billionaire turns. "Yeah?"

"Can I ask why you're doing all this? I don't just mean prom. I mean everything you've done for me."

For a long time Tony just stands there with a far-away look in his eyes. Then he flashes Peter one of his quick smiles. "You kinda remind me of myself. Besides, I consider myself a man of charity."

"Is this about the whole 'your father wasn't very supportive and you don't want to continue the cycle' thing you mentioned last year?"

Tony appears caught off-guard, but only for a quick moment. "You were actually listening? I thought you were too busy destroying the Staten Island Ferry."

"I'm good at multitasking."

Tony is almost out the door before he half turns and says, "Please don't get tasered again. I don't want to have to bail your ass out of jail. Looks bad for me."

Peter can't help the faint smile on his face as he watches the man activate his suit and take off. He noticed Stark hadn't answered his question. Aunt May appears at his shoulder.

"Gone already?" she asks with a slight pout. "I just brought him some cookies, since he seemed to like my cooking so much last time he was here."

"You're still invited to the wedding," he promises.

"What did he want?"

Peter smiles again. "I think he sees a little of himself in me."

May squeezes his shoulders. "That's great, hun. I take it the internship is going well?"

"It's going great." Peter glances at his watch and suddenly jumps up. "Crap. I gotta go."

"Don't forget your corsage!" May yells, thrusting the box into his hands. "Be careful driving! Don't do drugs! Say no to peer pressure!"

"Bye!"

* * *

Peter looks around the parking lot of the apartment. He doesn't even have to hit the unlock button on the key fob to find Tony's car. A sleek silver Audi R8 is parked perpendicular to the lines. Peter sighs in resignation, but his disappointment in Tony's parking job is soon forgotten as he examines the beautiful car. He runs his fingers along the smooth exterior before opening the door and fingering the leather interior. He feels the wheel and the dashboard.

"Nice," he says to himself. Then he notices that the car is stick shift. "Really?"

"I'll walk you through driving it," a female voice says. It takes Peter a moment to recognize it as FRIDAY, Stark's personal AI.

"Thanks."

"It's my pleasure. I like helping people who are actually grateful for my assistance."

Peter smirks and turns on the engine. The car hums quietly and steadily. Peter laughs. "This is great."

FRIDAY gives him some tips as he struggles to maneuver out of the parking lot. The accelerator and the brakes are both much more sensitive and responsive than Aunt May's old Buick. He quickly gets the hang of that difference and the stick shift, and he's on his way before he knows it, FRIDAY giving him instructions to Michelle's house.

Peter feels so cool driving such a beautiful car. Of course, he's also terrified because it's Tony Stark's car, and he's not used to driving on a regular basis, but he still feels cool nonetheless. A part of him hopes Flash sees him driving the Audi. That would teach the bully to make fun of Peter.

Peter pulls up to an apartment complex across Queens. He's surprised MJ commutes so far to go to school. He turns off the engine, pulls down the visor mirror to make sure he has nothing in his teeth, then folds it back up and steps out of the car.

Michelle steps out before he even makes it to the door. Peter freezes when he sees her, and something changes inside of him.

He had always seen her as pretty, but she'd always just been another smart kid with strange tendencies who sat at the other end of his and Ned's loser lunch table and made sarcastic comments. She'd been a mystery he didn't particularly care to solve.

Now, though, he can't take his eyes off of her. Her curly hair is pulled into a complex updo, her nails painted gold, and a form-fitting red dress with a flared bottom accents her attractive figure. He's shocked to see that she's even wearing makeup. Suddenly he wants to know her better. He wants to know everything about her life, why she says and does the things she does.

"Um, Parker? Hello?" She waves a hand in front of his face.

He blinks. "Uh, yeah. Hi."

She flashes his her trademark smirk. "Nice ride. Didn't peg you as a rich kid."

"Uh, I'm not. It's borrowed from a friend. Um, you look beautiful."

Michelle smooths down the front of her dress. "Yeah, I don't dress up often, but when I do, it's to stun." She nods at him. "You don't look too bad yourself."

He motions to the apartment. "Are we going in to meet your parents or…"

She shakes her head. "Nah. Let's hit up dinner."

MJ walks past him and examines the car in closer detail. "Audi R8. Your friend must be really rich. These cars soared in popularity post-2008."

"It's sweet," Peter agrees. He then realizes he's being rude and rushes over to open her door for her. She smirks at him again.

"Quite the gentleman, Parker."

"My aunt raised me right." Peter slides into his seat and turns on the car. "How do you feel about Trattoria L'incontro for dinner?"

She raises her eyebrows but only says, "You got a reservation?"

Peter assumes Tony Stark took care of it, so he's confident when he says, "Yeah, I do."

"I'm always a slut for Italian." Michelle pokes around the center compartment. "Lots of Black Sabbath music in here," she observes.

"Uh, yeah, my friend is a fan."

"Any particular reason you're avoiding saying your friend's name?" she asks casually.

Peter stares straight at the road for a minute. "He, uh, prefers to remain anonymous."

"You didn't steal this car, did you?" she accuses.

"What? No! I would -"

MJ laughs. "I'm kidding, Parker. There's no way you'd steal a car. You won't even text in class if the teacher forbids it."

Although Michelle is talking just as casually as she does at Decathlon practice or at lunch, Peter still feels nervous butterflies in his stomach. His hands are sweating on the wheel. _It's just Michelle_ , he keeps telling himself, but somehow, deep down, he doesn't believe it. She's more than 'just Michelle'. She's a gorgeous, intelligent, and funny girl who asked _him_ to prom. She's a complex equation he can't even hope to solve.

The idea of dinner makes him nervous. He's never talked to her for more than a few minutes at a time. What will they talk about? He doesn't want to just get into science discussions. He wants to get to know her, but what if he pushes too far? What if she just directs the conversation away until he doesn't know what to talk about anymore? What if someone spills food? What if -

 _Stop it,_ he chides himself. _Aunt May warned me about talking myself into a panic. I just have to be cool. MJ is just my friend who I'm going to prom with._

 _My super hot friend who asked_ me _to prom,_ he corrects himself.

"Can I ask you a question?" Michelle suddenly says.

"Yeah?"

"What happened between you and Liz? You guys seemed close for a few days and then suddenly she wouldn't look you in the eyes anymore."

Peter is terrible at lying. He knows this as well as anyone. But he's gotten better at it. "I was...working through some stuff. But I'm better now," he assures her.

"I was wondering about that too. What were you doing in DC while we were at the Decathlon?"

There is no decent answer for this. _What would Ned say?_ he thinks to himself.

"I, uh, went out to a party that night and was super hung over in the morning. It was horrible. Would not recommend."

Michelle smirks. "Somehow I just can't imagine you at the party scene. When you went to Liz's party that one time you left after like five minutes."

Peter looks over at her. "Were you stalking me?"

"I'm very observant."

Peter pulls up to the front of the restaurant, where a valet takes the car. He makes sure to open the door for Michelle before entering the establishment.

The host confirms Peter's reservation and escorts them to their own table. As they're seated, a small metal bucket filled with ice and champagne is set on their table.

"What? No, we didn't order this," Peter insists when the waiter sets it down.

The waiter gives him a strange look. "Of course you didn't. All premium patrons of this establishment are given complimentary drinks when they visit."

He sets two wine glasses on the table and pops the cork before pouring the golden drink. Peter and MJ exchange looks before resigning.

"Thank you," Peter says.

"I'll return in five minutes to take your order."

When the waiter is out of earshot, MJ reaches over and examines her glass. "Premium patron, huh?" she asks, staring at the bubbles. "Your mysterious friend really set you up tonight."

Peter sighs. "He can be...extra."

She shrugs. "Might as well try it."

He takes up his glass and raises it slightly. "To a fun prom night," he declares.

Michelle tinks her glass lightly against his. "Cheers."

The liquid burns down his throat, but it has a surprisingly sweet taste. "Not bad," he says. Then he remembers he has to drive and he sets it down quickly.

"Tastes like money," Michelle says dreamily. Then, in a normal voice, "Yeah, it's too much."

The waiter returns and they order their food. While they wait, they carry on a casual conversation about school, the decathlon team, and old band camp stories. Peter is surprised and pleased by how comfortable it is to talk to her. She really _is_ observant - she seems to know everything about everyone.

After they've plowed through most of their (extremely rich) food, Michelle gets a rare serious glint in her eyes.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

Peter is a bit taken aback by her forwardness, but he nods. "Sure."

"You mention your aunt May a lot, and I know you live with her, but you never talk about your parents. Why is that?"

Peter wishes he could feel sad at the question, but he only feels a strange sort of emptiness, like longing for something you've never had. "They, uh, they died."

MJ's eyes widen. "I'm sorry," she says quickly. "That's awful."

Now it's his turn to shrug. "Yeah. I mean, I was super little, so I don't really remember them. Just snatches of blurred memory. Aunt May and my Uncle Ben raised me until my uncle died. Now it's just me and May."

"How did they die?" Michelle's voice is uncharacteristically soft.

"A plane crash. They were scientists, and they were on their way to a discovery of some sort in Switzerland." He fingers the neck of his champagne class absentmindedly. "I don't really know any details. May doesn't like to talk about it."

Michelle leans back. She doesn't look at him with pity, like most people. Instead she seems to have a sort of understanding. "People die. Life goes on. In a way, it's cruel. And in a way, it's kind."

He so desperately wants to ask her who she lost, but he can't find the words. Instead he just nods in agreement. "Life always finds a way. Do you want to get out here?"

She smiles at him. "Yeah. Let's go crash the party."

The valet brings the car back up to the front. Michelle sticks her feet up on the dash. Peter doesn't say anything.

Twenty minutes later they pull into the parking lot of the golf course where the prom is being hosted. Cheesy balloons and ribbons line a path across the sidewalk into the banquet hall. Peter spots Flash's car (or rather, his father's new car) and parks the Audi next to it.

"You have a lot of surprising attributes, Parker," she notes as he shuts off the engine.

"Like what?"

"Pettiness." She grins. "I like it."

She pulls her heels off the dashboard. As they walk up the ribbon-lined pathway towards the door, MJ links her arm in his. Flickers of nervousness flutter around the pit of his stomach. It's all he can do to walk straight and not trip.

The music pumps loud inside. Peter and Michelle seek out Ned, Abe, Sally, and a few other fellow classmates/nerds. They have a loose circle on the fringe of the dance floor and dance either using slightly outdated moves or just plain pathetic ones. They don't mind, though; better to look funky and have fun than be in the midst of the grinding circle with the populars.

About a half hour into the dance, Michelle excuses herself to go and get some water. Peter stays behind to talk to Ned.

"Are you sure you're not upset about me changing plans at the last minute?" he asks.

Ned shakes his head. "Nah, man. I'm always going to be here for you, but it's not everyday you get asked out. Actually, it's _never_ that you get asked out."

"Thanks," Peter says sarcastically. Then, genuinely, "And thanks."

"What are friends for?" Ned steps up close. "Plus, I think that girl over there has been eyeing me all night." He nods towards a blonde girl across the room. "Wish me luck, man."

Peter doesn't think she's looking at Ned the way Ned thinks she's looking at him, but he's not going to rain on his friend's parade. "Just remember: be cool. And hold off on telling her about your ten thousand lego piece Hoth battle recreation."

Ned gives him a strange look. "Why wouldn't I tell her that? That's the coolest thing I have going for me!"

Peter sighs to himself as his best friend tries to casually stroll over to the girl. At least he tried.

The rap song fades out and a slow, Ed Sheeran song begins to play. The couples in the middle begin slow dancing. Peter doesn't realize he's staring until Michelle lightly touches his elbow.

"Want to join them?" she asks.

"Uh, sure." Peter silently curses himself for being so awkward. Taking on armed criminals? Easy peasy. AP Chemistry test? A walk in the park. Interacting with girls? Catastrophic system failure.

He wipes off a sweaty hand before taking Michelle's and then lightly and hesitantly puts his other hand around her waist. He's afraid of being too close and making her uncomfortable.

"Leaving room for Jesus is just an expression, Parker," MJ says, stepping forward so that they are only a couple inches apart. "Just relax."

Peter hates this song. Thinking Out Loud, it's called. He hates it because whenever he hears, he feels like he's in love, even though he's never been in love. Now, dancing this close to Michelle, fingers intertwined, he hates what the stupid song is doing to his emotions. He and Michelle are just friends. Right?

 _People fall in love in mysterious ways / Maybe just the touch of a hand_

He tries (unsuccessfully) to not think of her hand in his. _Stop thinking like that!_ he admonishes himself. _Just friends. Jeez_.

He also hates dancing like this because he has no idea where to look. Does he look at Michelle? Stare deep into her eyes like all the other love-struck couples? He thinks he remembers reading somewhere about an experiment where two strangers stared into each other's eyes for four minutes. Six months later, they were married. The experiment was replicated with the same results.

So staring at her for the entire time is ruled out. But where else to look? Just above her eyes? But then he just ends up looking into her beautiful, big brown eyes the color of chocolate…

 _Stop it stop it stop it_ , he chants. _You can't start liking Michelle. You can't start liking anyone. You're a superhero, an Avenger. Relationships don't work out. First of all, you'll have to lie to them. Then you could put them in danger._

Michelle steps even closer. "This is fun," she says. "I've never done this kind of thing before."

"I'm not really good," he protests.

"No, but at least you aren't stepping on my feet." She smiles suddenly. "My grandpa, he and I were really close. He had this old record player and he'd put on his favorite tracks. Elton John, Elvis Presley, and the like. He'd set it up and then dance with me around the living. I used to put my feet on his and he'd whirl me around."

Then she does something that completely surprises him: she wraps both her arms around his neck and lays her forehead on his shoulder. "This reminds me of that. So thank you."

 _Place your head on my beating heart, I'm thinking out loud / And maybe we found love right where we are_

Really? Those lyrics at this moment? Peter begins to do what he always done when he's nervous or awkward: he begins to talk.

"Aunt May used to do dance with me when I was younger, too. Only she listened to Nineties music and used more...modern dancing techniques. You know, the Running Man. The Macarena. Cha-Cha Slide. And of course the Sprinkler."

He can feel Michelle's body shake with laughter. He feels slightly less uncomfortable.

Suddenly everyone's phone alarms sound. Michelle and Peter straighten up and dig in their pockets to see what's going on. Between the cracks on his screen, Peter sees that it's an Amber Alert.

 _Armed robbery at 200 Montague Street, Brooklyn, NY, 11201. Hostage situation. Police advise citizens to stay clear at least two blocks._

Most of the high schoolers shrug and put their phones away and continue dancing. Peter stares at it for the longest moment. He knows he has to go and help. He also knows that Michelle may never forgive him if he ditches her.

He looks up and meets Ned's eyes across the dance floor. A sympathetic understand crosses his friend's face. This is the part about being a superhero that sucks: strangers in need come before the people who are important in your life.

Peter looks back at Michelle and is surprised she's staring at him. There's a strange mix of sadness and fierceness in her gaze.

"You can go," she says calmly.

"What?"

She motions towards his phone screen. "You can go. The police need Spiderman more than I want Peter Parker."

For a minute, he can't move. Chills creep up his spine. His mouth hangs open. His brain freezes. Then, "How do you know?"

She sighs with exasperation. "You have a mysterious internship with Tony Stark. When we went to DC for the decathlon, you disappeared and Spiderman showed up. I've seen you do secret experiments in the drawer of your chemistry desk. You also quit Robotics club and marching band at around the same time Spiderman started showing up. Do you want me to go on?"

 _She knows?_ is all Peter can think. _She knows that I'm Spiderman?_

"How long have you known?" he finally forces out.

She thinks for a moment, then shrugs. "The decathlon incident is what confirmed my suspicions. That was a pretty bad move on your part, although I guess you didn't really have a choice once the elevator in the Washington Monument blew up."

"Is it - is it that obvious?"

MJ shakes her head. "No, no, I'm the only one who knows. Everyone else just thinks you're smoking pot. I tried telling you, Parker - I'm observant."

He runs a hand through his hair anxiously and paces a little in front of her. "You won't tell anyone, right? It has to be a secret."

She steps up and grabs his hand. "Peter."

He freezes and meets her gaze.

"It's your secret. I'm not going to tell anyone. I only told you because I don't want you to have to choose between ditching me or ditching those hostages at the bank. I understand that you have to go web people and stuff."

All he can do is stare at her for another moment. He knows it's creepy, but he's just in so much shock. She knew this whole time? He never would have guessed.

"You understand?" he finally asks. "You're not mad?"

She shakes her head emphatically. "I'll wait for you. Promise. But I think you should go now."

A smile grows on his face. He wishes he could show her how much relief he feels, both by her understanding of the situation and of the fact that there's one less person who he has to lie to. "Thank you. For everything. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Peter takes off, running across the banquet hall and pushing past friend groups taking pictures and shoving open the doors, pulling off his tie and peeling off his jacket as he goes. He waits until he's out of sight of the building before stripping the rest of his prom clothes and webbing them to a tree. He pulls his mask over his face and starts swinging back towards the main part of Brooklyn.

"Good evening, Peter," Karen says as his eyescreen boots up. "How can I help you this evening?"

"I gotta stop a bank robbery, free some hostages, and get back to the golf course before prom ends. Think we can do that?"

The AI doesn't miss a beat. "Is this the HSBC bank?"

"Yep."

"Here is the quickest path." Peter follows the map she supplies for him in one corner. As he flies from one building to the next, she catches him up on the situation. "Police have blockaded the surrounding blocks. SWAT team is inbound. Hostages are the owner of the bank and a rich client who visited his vault after hours. Bank currently has about half a million dollars in cash on site."

"This sounds fun." Peter swings above the police barricade. The policemen shout and point at him, but none of them try to get in his way. Apparently they don't mind his presence when it's convenient for them.

He swings straight through the front doors after shattering the thick wood with an explosive web. The interior is a large, open room with a high ceiling. Two middle-aged men are gagged and zip-tied to a desk while a group of about a half-dozen men fill briefcases with bills.

"Hey!" One of them shouts as Peter flies into sight. "Spiderboy!"

"Spiderman!" Peter can't help but correct. "It's Spider _man_."

"Not with that high-pitched of a voice it isn't," one of the others shoot back. Peter aims a web and shoots it at his mouth. The man staggers back at first, then pulls something out of his pocket and sprays it on the webbing. It disintegrates almost immediately.

Peter is taken aback for a minute. These aren't just any normal criminals; these ones are smart. They must have gotten their hands on a sample of his webbing at some point and figured out a substance to counter it.

He debates for a second about what to do, then decides to pull a Tony Stark and pretend like he knows everything already.

He swings from one side of the room to the other, taunting them, saying, "Compared to some of the supervillains I've fought, you guys are like first-graders."

One of the robbers sneers. "Do first-graders have these kind of weapons?"

As Peter swings by again, this time with an arm outstretched, a blast of purple matter hits him square in the chest. He is sent flying backwards into the far wall. The wind is knocked out of him and he hits the floor hard.

"The energy readings from that blast are not unlike the readings from the Chitauri weapons," Karen informs him. "Those men have alien weapons."

"Great," Peter groans, pushing himself to his feet. Three men have large guns pointed straight at him. The other three are finishing the robbery.

"You know," Peter says, "I changed my mind. You guys are like cocky fifth-graders who think they know everything."

He shoots a web up onto the ceiling and flies straight up before they can pull the triggers on their gun. He zig-zags across the ceiling, avoiding their blasts by mere inches.

"I have a date waiting for me," he calls down to them, "so I'd really like to wrap up this business in an efficient and orderly manner."

"Ha!" says on of the robbers. "We're not giving up so easy."

"Your choice."

Peter shoots a webbing at his wrist and yanks on it. The gun clatters out of his hand, and Peter shoots another web to take the gun and web-splatter it onto the ceiling. The man pulls out a normal gun and starts firing.

"I can always activate Instant Kill if you're in a hurry," Karen suggests, oddly cheerful.

"I really need to disable that feature," Peter mumbles, swinging around and delivering a solid, flying kick to one of the other criminals. He skids across the floor, his gun wrenched out of his grip. Peter also secures that one on the ceiling.

He turns just in time to get a facefull of another blast. This one hurts so much more than the last one; he feels as though all his nerves are being seared off and his body is being rolled across coals.

When the shock fades just enough for him to comprehend his surroundings, but not enough for him to be able to move without excruciating pain racking his body, he sees the last criminal standing over his body, the wide barrel of the alien gun staring him down.

"What even are you?" the guys asks, leaning down. "Are you man or alien?"

He grabs the edge of the mask and rips it up. Peter groans in protest, but his limbs and torso are still seizing up from the blast too much to fight back.

The man's eyes widen as he takes in Peter's face. "Neither," he murmurs. "You're just a kid."

Peter narrows his eyes. "No, I'm not just a kid. I'm an Avenger." He clenches his fist and the spider-shaped drone hidden in his suit detaches and slams straight into the man's forehead. He stumbles back in pain while the drone begins circling him and randomly shooting webbing his way. While the man struggles to spray his anti-webbing concoction on all the spots, Peter rolls over and slowly gets to his feet, swallowing a mouthful of blood. He replaces his mask and regains his perch on the ceiling.

From his vantage point, he can see that the robbers have all regained their alien weapons. Great. Only two of them are focused on Peter now; three of the others are aiming their weapons at the door, where Peter can hear the sound of the SWAT van pulling up, and the last one is guarding the prisoners.

"Come down or we shoot the hostages!" he yells at Peter.

Peter smirks inside his mask. "Karen, set my web shooters to rapid-fire mode."

"Rapid-fire mode enabled," she reports back a second later.

"Last warning!" the robber warns.

Peter drops from the ceiling suddenly, twisting and firing short bursts of webbing as quickly as he can. The trigger on the the gun pointed at the prisoners is encased. The man's eyes are covered. The legs of the men facing the door are bound together and they drop to the floor with a yelp. The two facing Peter are covered in a flurry of shots. A few poorly aimed shots stick to the walls. The briefcases full of money are effectively glued to the floor.

Peter swoops down in the midst of the chaos and grabs the hostages, swinging them out the door to the side of the nearest police car. Then he swings back into the bank and cocoons the alien guns up, bringing those back to the police cars, too.

"Karen, send a message to Happy letting him know that there are still some alien weapons in circulation. I think he'll be interested."

"Message sent," she says a moment later.

Peter turns around to face the bank and grins. "I think our work here is done," he declares. A second later he feels a shock seize up his body.

"Not again," he groans before crumpling to his feet.

"It appears you've been tasered again," Karen says dryly.

"Really?" Peter grits his teeth. "Mr. Stark specifically told me _not_ to get caught again."

"Spiderman!" A policeman shouts, coming to stand in front of him. "We need to talk to you!"

"This doesn't feel like talking!" he shouts back, fighting to his feet. The policeman has stopped the surprisingly painful shocks, though the device is still in his hand.

The man looks taken aback. "Sorry. We didn't think you'd cooperate."

"What do you want?" Peter glances at the clock in his eyescreen. It's already well past ten o'clock. The dance is starting to wind down. He has an image on MJ standing alone in the corner, and he feels a twinge of irritation flow through him. What if she doesn't wait?

"While we appreciate your assistance, we have no idea who you are or what your powers are. You have to sign the Accords in order for us to condone your work."

Peter sighs. After the Germany battle, he'd done his research on the underlying cause - the Sokovia Accords. And, after hours of studying them, he decided he would never sign them. Mr. Stark had never pressured him to sign them, and he realizes that Stark using him during that battle was actually illegal according to the document.

While he'd never say any of that to the billionaire, he's not about to start admitting his true identity.

"I'm sorry, sir. I can't do that."

"Then we have to take you in. Sorry, man." The police officer does seem regretful.

Peter isn't worried. "With all due respect, I'd like to see you try. The only thing you need to know about me is that I'm a friendly neighborhood Spiderman." He backflips away, shooting out his webs mid air. He soars away from the crime scene, the night sky opening up in front of him. Pure, untethered freedom. That's what it's like to be him in this moment.

"Take me back to Queens," he tells Karen. "I have a date waiting."

* * *

The parking lot of the banquet hall is empty besides a certain silver Audi R8. Peter is still re-tying his tie as he half jogs across the cement.

He curses to himself. This is _not_ how he planned the evening to go. The dance is over and MJ may or may not be waiting for him and he's pretty sure he's bleeding somewhere on his face and with his enhanced healing on overdrive from the fight he's pretty tired and -

All those thoughts disappear when he sees the bright red of Michelle's dress. She's laying on the hood of the Audi, a cup in one hand, a carton of fries in her other hand. A Wendy's bag is sitting next to her.

Peter approaches cautiously. "Michelle?" he calls out softly.

She doesn't turn to look at him. "Come join me. Ned brought us Wendy's. Said you'd probably be tired and in need of a sugar hit."

Peter lays next to her and digs out a frosty from the bag. He sends a silent thanks to his best friend who knows him better than anyone.

MJ stares up at the stars. They shine surprisingly bright despite being so close to the city. "It's nice," she says. Peter turns his head and looks at her. The stars are reflected in her eyes. She methodically takes a fry and dips it in her frosty.

"Do you know any of the constellations?" she asks.

Peter looks back up at the sky. He points to three stars in a row. "That's Orion."

"You know the story behind him?"

Peter has a fond memory of his Uncle Ben taking him out stargazing when he was young. "Yeah. Orion was a hunter in Ancient Greece. He was good friends with Artemis, goddess of the hunt. He was the only man allowed to go on hunts with her and her maidens. There are two versions of how he ended up in the skies. In one, he fell in love with her and pursued her until she could no longer bear it. She had to kill him, but it brought her sorrow so she immortalized him forever in the stars. In the other version, Artemis's brother Apollo became jealous of him and sent a poisonous scorpion to sting him. Orion died, and Artemis was so heartbroken that she placed him in the skies."

"Huh." MJ tosses another ice cream-coated fry into her mouth.

"You know any constellations or stories?"

"Nope."

Peter stifles a laugh. He'll never fully understand Michelle, and he's not sure he wants to. Some things are better left to mystery.

"Rough night at the bank?" she asks, turning towards him.

He also faces her. "Is it that obvious?"

"I mean, you're bleeding a little bit." She reaches over and touches the corner of his lip. "Plus it took you forever to return."

He turns back to the sky, unsettled by the way his lip burns where she touched it. "They had alien weapons. Not surprising, but definitely not preferable."

"How did you get your powers?" she asks.

"Radioactive spider."

She gives him a sideways look. He shrugs. "Long story."

"So, the whole Stark Internship thing - do you work for Tony Stark or does he just like design your costume?"

Peter's pride takes a hit. " _Suit_. And...it's complicated." Then he decides to be honest with her. There's no point in keeping anything secret. Besides, it's nice to have someone other than Ned to talk to about these things. Ned only cares about the "cool" aspects of it, like the tech and the fighting bad guys. "Mr. Stark...he takes a special interest in me."

She smirks. "That doesn't sound weird at all," she remarks.

"No, it's not like that. He just...I don't know, sometimes it's like he's treating me the way he wished he was treated when he was my age."

Her eyebrows press together. "Like how?"

"I think…" He pauses, debating his word choice. "He makes these little comments sometimes about how he doesn't want to be like his father. I think he's trying to treat me the way he thinks his father should have treated him."

"Tony Stark is your sugar daddy. Must be nice." Michelle pats the car. "Explains your sweet ride and the restaurant."

"Yeah, it's a little much sometimes." Peter smiles faintly. "But it's also comforting in a way. I mean, I hated it at first 'cause he set rules for what he thought I should and shouldn't do with my powers, and he lectured me when I wasn't responsible, but looking back I realize he was right the entire time. Within his rules he's given me room to make mistakes to learn from while still having a safety net in case I fall."

"That sounds really nice." Michelle has a distant look in her eyes. "My father...he isn't really around. Not in the ways that matter, at least." She turns to Peter, and he sees an uncharacteristic seriousness in her gaze. "Don't let go of what you have with Stark. There's nothing more important in the world than knowing someone always has your back, that someone is there for you to talk to about anything, that someone loves you unconditionally."

Peter takes a chance. He reaches over and takes her hand. "I'm going to be honest. Before tonight, I didn't know you any better than the others at our school. I'm so glad you gave me the chance to get to know you better."

She smiles at him, white teeth gleaming. "Don't get too sappy. There's still a lot about me you'll probably never know."

"That's okay. I don't expect you to tell me anything you don't to tell me."

They lay in silence for a while. Then Peter asks, "Would you have asked me out if you didn't know I was Spiderman?"

MJ is silent for a minute. "I want to say yes, but honestly I don't know. You being Spiderman is a testament to who you are as a person. I would like to think that would shine through even if you didn't have powers. But if I didn't make the connection that you were Spidey, I'd probably think you were a troubled youth with misplaced brilliance."

He laughs. "That's what my Aunt May thinks. Sometimes when she's lecturing me, I want to let her know that I'm not misbehaving for the sake of making trouble and getting attention. But how can I tell her my identity?"

"Good question."

They sit for a while longer. Peter is once again aware of the fact that they're holding hands and oh gosh his palms are sweaty does she notice and he didn't realize before how close they are and should he say something or is the quiet good?

After some time Michelle points out how late it's getting. As they slide off the hood of the Audi and buckle up, part of Peter is relieved because he is not so close to her anymore and part of him is sad that the moment is over.

She turns on the radio quietly while he drives. That stupid Ed Sheeran song is on. He hates how his heart clenches at some of the lyrics. Those feelings were fine when he was single; now that he's this close to Michelle, he can't afford thinking he's in love.

At her apartment, he walks her up the steps to the outside door. They stand there awkwardly for a moment.

"Thanks for the evening," Michelle says. "I really had fun."

"Even with me ditching you?"

"Especially with you ditching me." She smirks. Peter memorizes the look anew. "But mostly for understanding. And for talking. You aren't afraid to say what's on your mind. As someone who prefers listening, I appreciate it."

"Thanks for asking me. It was nice being a normal teenager for a couple hours."

"Anytime." MJ starts to open the door. Her hand slips off the knob as she turns back. "Goodnight Peter."

She leans up and kisses him lightly. Shocks significantly more powerful than that of a taser flow through his body, but instead of hurting him they fill him with warmth. He notices a million details at once, namely the way she tastes like chocolate frosty with a hint of salt, the slight metallic tang of blood from his split lip, and her hand on the side of his face.

She pulls away and enters the apartment complex without looking back. Peter stands on the doorstep for a minute, still stunned and shaken but with a stupid smile he can't wipe off his face.

 _Take me into your loving arms / Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars_

"Goodnight, MJ," he whispers into the night breeze.

* * *

Peter parks the Audi, steps out, and is just closing the door when a voice calls out from the darkness, causing him to fumble and drop the key fob.

"So how was it?"

Peter reaches and grabs the keys, trying to regain a little of his dignity as he turns to face Tony Stark. "Could've used a little back-up at the bank."

The billionaire shrugs. "I was nearby. You seemed to handle it well. But I want to know about the dance."

He thinks about MJ in her beautiful red dress and his heart races a bit. He plays it off. "Yeah, that was fun, too."

"Please tell me you showed off the car a bit." Tony walks around him to admire the Audi. "I didn't buy this for functionality. Purely aesthetic."

"Parked it right in front." Peter pauses, then says, "Thanks for loaning it to me. And for the restaurant. You didn't have to do those things."

Starks shrugs again. "I'm a believer in sharing the wealth. So how was your date? You seem pretty happy."

"Michelle was great." Peter feels a little awkward talking about this to the older man. They've been through a lot together, but facing imminent death is quite different than talking about girls. "She was okay that I had to leave for a while. Didn't get mad."

He intentionally leaves out the part about her knowing his secret. The last thing he wants right now is a lecture on the importance of anonymity.

"If you're going to attempt to balance having a relationship and being a superhero the most important thing is finding the right woman." Tony smiles faintly. "Pepper, bless her, has stuck with me through everything. I don't know why, but she's just as important to me as this." He taps his arc reactor.

"Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"When did you know she was the right one?"

Tony shakes his head. "It wasn't like that. There was no one singular moment. One day I just realized that she was more than an assistant, and then I gave her a chance. Best decision I ever made."

"Huh." Peter doesn't know what else to say. He reaches into his pocket and tosses Stark the keys. "It's getting late. I better go in."

"Yeah, you're right. I sometimes forget that normal people sleep. You ever want to borrow the car again, just shoot me or Happy a text."

Peter smiles to himself as he enters his apartment. Although neither Tony nor Happy respond to his texts or calls often, he knows that Stark reads them or listens to his daily reports. After growing up with mostly only Aunt May, it's nice to have someone else who cares.

Aunt May pounces on him as soon as he walks through the door. "How was it? Did you remember to open the doors for her? You did get pictures, right? Did you guys dance together? Please tell me you didn't step on her toes!"

Peter waves her off. "It was a lot of fun. And yes, we got pictures."

Aunt May beams. "Oh, honey, I can't wait to see them!"

"I'm a little tired. Can I show you in the morning?"

May look at the clock, her eyes growing wide as if she's just now notices it's almost two in the morning. "Of course! Oh, and Ned called a couple times. Wanted to talk to you."

"Thanks, Aunt May."

Peter strips off his suit, button-down, and tie and then peels off his Spidey suit. He collapses onto his bed and dials Ned, who answers on the first ring.

"So how did it go?"

"It was so great. We just sat under the stars and talked for a while." Peter rubs his face. "Man, I think I'm starting to like her."

"You sure? That's a big step, you know."

"Yeah, but…" Peter remembers her body pressed on his and he smiles. "She kissed me."

Ned is silent for so long that Peter thinks he may have fallen asleep. Finally he says, "Wow."

"She told me some stories about her and her grandpa. And dude - she knows that I'm Spiderman."

Ned isn't as surprised as Peter was. "At least you don't have to lie to her anymore. Not like what happened with Liz."

"It's just so weird. I had no idea she knew."

"I have to ask you something," Ned says seriously.

"Yeah?"

"What are you gonna do next? Are you gonna pretend it never happened or are you going to pursue her?"

Peter sighs. He remembers what Stark said about balancing a relationship and being a superhero. He thinks about how it felt to be with Michelle. He tries to predict what might happen the future.

"I don't know," he confesses. "It's a lot to think about. I'm not just any average high schooler." Peter tries to think more, but his brain is fuzzy and exhausted. "I'm going to sleep now. We'll talk more tomorrow, okay?"

"See you then."

Peter plugs his phone into the charger and then pulls his blankets up. He tries to sleep, but all he can think about MJ's satin red dress and her bright smile and her dark, shining eyes and the way it felt when she kissed him. For the moment, he doesn't care about Spiderman or the Avengers or trying to save the world. For once he just wants to be a normal teenage boy.

He remembers Mr. Stark telling him to just "stay on the ground, be a friendly, neighborhood Spiderman." Of course, Peter has participated in some bigger-scale conflicts, but for the most part he just operates in this area. Mr. Stark and the other Avengers are giving him time and space to work up to their level. He has the freedom to build up experience without worrying about the fate of the world.

Like every kid, he's always wanted more. But, like when he told Mr. Stark he was okay with staying on the ground for a little while longer, Peter realizes he's not quite ready to completely drop his normal life to become a superhero. He wants to graduate high school, he wants to go out on dates, he wants to go to $5 movie nights with Ned, he wants to life with May for a couple more years - and he can do all those things.

For now, the Avengers can focus on the saving the world. And if they need him, he'll be ready to help. But Peter can let himself worry about his own problems, like what he's going to say to Michelle the next time he sees her.

 _Life isn't so bad,_ he thinks to himself as he finally drifts off to sleep.


End file.
